


The (Im)Mortality of Tenkuuji Takeru

by Descendant_of_Truth



Category: Kamen Rider, Kamen Rider Ghost
Genre: Basically just angst the whole way through, Gen, Other characters are mentioned but not necessarily featured, Takeru is not okay and nothing anyone says will convince me otherwise, This is basically all the stuff the writers were too cowardly to include, but he kind of needed it after all the floweriness that was Kamen Rider Ghost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 10:57:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15929024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descendant_of_Truth/pseuds/Descendant_of_Truth
Summary: Takeru has died more times than he cares to count. It weighs on him even in life, but it was worth it in the end, wasn't it? Everything reached its best possible conclusion. It doesn't matter if it hurts as long as everyone else is happy. That's all that's ever really mattered to him.





	The (Im)Mortality of Tenkuuji Takeru

**Author's Note:**

> Suffice it to say that I have a lot of feelings about Takeru.

The first time it happened, it took him off-guard. If there was somehow anything he could have done to prevent it, he realized it far too late. The blade of the sword was too sharp, cut too deep; Takeru had never experienced pain like that before. He sometimes wonders exactly how deep the wound was. It must have gotten to some vital organ for the effect to be as quick as it was, but the shock to his system was far too much to be able to tell which.

  
He wonders if it was his heart.

  
He decides it's best not to think too hard. It's best not to think about how his life would have ended there, that everything he came to do would never have happened. He decides it was for the best. That all the pain, the feeling of his life quickly draining from his numb body was worth it in the end.

  
Even when it happened again. And again. And again.

  
The second time it happened, he had far too much time to prepare. He remembers it clearly; the feeling of waking up every day, putting on a smile for his friends and maximizing the last days of his life while he dragged the cold, unrelenting dread behind him like a weight tied to his leg. But then again, he could walk through stuff like that, right? He was a ghost. And soon... who knew what he would be.

  
But it was worth it, it was worth the emotional suffocation he experienced, because Kanon lived. His childhood friend was alive and Makoto could finally, finally be happy again. He would never have forgiven himself if he hadn't made that choice. This was the best possible outcome.

  
So why? Why did he still have that burning feeling in his chest, screaming that he didn't want to die? Why was it, that when he had to pick his last words, he asked a question? He could have thanked his friends for always being there for him, for loving him more than he sometimes felt he deserved. But no, he had to pick the question that had been sitting in his stomach for days.

  
"Did my life burn brightly enough?"

  
Even receiving a positive response wasn't truly enough. He couldn't fully believe it. Not when Onari and Akari looked at him with tears in their eyes. That was possibly the most painful part. Each second he looked at their despairing faces was like a knife to the chest--and he knew exactly what that felt like. But even that was worth it in the end, because he was given another chance. The way his friends' eyes lit up when they saw him again is something he would always treasure. Even still, he wished he hadn't had to put them through that pain.

  
Every time, he thought that this was it. This was the last time. That this time, he truly would die. He became familiar with the feeling; it wasn't usually painful, but the terror that gripped him was the same, until eventually even that had numbed. It became a paradox. His own lack of feeling managed to hurt. Feeling himself fade away, seeing the look on Akari's face once more, and all he could feel was... exhausted. It was horrible. Shouldn't he care a little more?

  
Perhaps that was why it took longer to make his way back. Somewhere deep within himself, he just wanted to rest. Why bother coming back if wasn't really coming back? Upgrading from "barely existing" to "a ghost" wasn't all that appealing, especially if he had to deal with horrible anxiety that came with his time limit.  
But in the end, he couldn't let himself do that. It was the same reason he chose to save Kanon over himself and it was the reason he found himself continuing onward, even when it would have been easier not to.

  
And again, it turned out that he had picked the best choice. When he truly came back to life and tasted the first thing he had in six months, it was the happiest he had ever been. It was a balloon that expanded through his chest until he was practically bursting with energy and the joy of simply being alive. For the first time in months, he felt that everything really was okay.

  
He just wanted to hug everyone he saw and give them compliments, to brighten up even a single person's day. It really had turned out for the best! He came back to life with newfound love and appreciation of everything that life had to offer. What more could he ask for?

  
Well, it would be nice if he could go more than a few months without all his progress being taken away from him.

  
Probably the scariest part was that he couldn't tell if he was really dying or not. He had experienced all kinds of pain that would probably kill a human while he was a ghost, so when he felt his body slowly shutting down, he had assumed he was just going to pass out. And walking a few more blocks while his body ached all over couldn't possibly cause that much more damage, right?

  
Over-exertion thought otherwise. He only processed what was happening moments after he had hit the ground, and at that point, it was too late to really feel anything. There was no afterlife he was going to like all the other times, so maybe was dying slower than usual. He wouldn't know. Time doesn't flow normally when you're passed out and dying on the floor.

  
His revival was far more sudden than any of the others. Air suddenly rushed into his lungs as his heart jolted, and again he was thrown into a brief state of confusion. When he realized he had been brought back, really been brought back, not as a ghost again, he wanted to cry. But he was too exhausted and in too much pain to do much of anything.

  
He could bring himself to thank Emu, though, the doctor who had quickly become a friend. It was all he could muster before he was inevitably taken to a hospital. He could have chuckled at the thought if he had the energy. A hospital. He felt like he hadn't been to one of those in years. Ghosts don't need doctors, after all.

  
Since then, he had continued living his life. Everything was more wonderful than he ever could have realized had he not lost his life time and time again. It was worth it.

  
No, it had to be worth it. It had to be worth the pain he felt. It had to be worth the pain he was still feeling, every night when he tried to go to bed and every morning when he woke up. It had to be worth the lingering notion in his head that he was running out of time, the hitching in his breath whenever he looked at a calendar.

  
It all had to be worth the rapid breathing, the pounding heart, the shivers that currently wracked his body in the middle of the night. He replays all the positive things that have happened to him in his mind like a broken record, trying to convince himself that everything is okay. He pulls the blankets over his head, as if to drown out the anguish he was feeling.

  
He eventually panicks himself into exhaustion, falling asleep within the hour. By the time he wakes up, things still aren't okay. But he thinks he can get through today. There's so much in the world for him to enjoy, after all. His friends are still there for him. He really is lucky, he reminds himself, to have been able to come back to life at all.

  
The thought doesn't help much, but it gets him out of bed that day. The sight of the blue sky is enough to make him smile. But as he heads out to face the day, he can't help but wonder if anyone else will notice that it's not truly genuine.


End file.
